Oh not that again

The flogging off of the household silver was a permanent gash in the side of a cabinet once, used to much cabernet, much like the Titanic that became the dying career of Mrs T, but some societies never learn from her demise until their good ship Titanica is way beyond the newfoundland banks, and under them, like the new moderne Church of England, guided by Rowan and the red canons of the old CSSR, turning old churches into the vending machines of bankers. Where's the soviet union now archbishop? Bishops - indeed. As if such apostles of mammon if not maimmonides might know what to do with a sacred space built by humble believers centuries ago, precisely on the understanding that these churches would have presbyters in them that would go on celebrating the christian passover for the souls of the poor in perpetuam and ad infinitum. Who gave these bishops the authority to sell off the patrimony of the poor? Especially to fat-cats rolling in other people's money, creaming off the food of the nation, banking huge bonuses in swiss bank accounts, auto-authorising huge private loans to themselves, and generally honking all the spare cash and quantitative easing in the nation for their own speculations and their 101 jobber boys on the floors of the stock markets of Hong Kong? Duffy's Stripping of the Altars and Voices of Morpeth might be read slowly with profit by all above us in our vicarages. Selling the church plate and building a king's fleet in 1525 might actually turn out to have bin a bit more honourable than flogging the bricks of the poor to the filthy and the rich in their banks. ATMs giving glory to God - show us how, dear old father to the commons? Guy - come back, all is forgiven.